


Wrong Number

by aislingdoheanta



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blind Date, M/M, Non-hunter au, Wrong number
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 11:32:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1743176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aislingdoheanta/pseuds/aislingdoheanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gets a call from a wrong number. He sort of wishes it had been the right number.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrong Number

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of the first AU’s I’ve written that’s fairly short. It feels strange!
> 
> Posted originally on my [tumblr. ](http://saras-almanac.tumblr.com/post/84996562017/fic-a-day-in-may-day-six)

Dean glanced down at the unknown number flashing on his cell phone screen. Considering he didn’t have many friends and his family wasn’t that big, it was surprising. He knew it wasn’t anyone calling about mechanic work because they would have called the shop.

He answered it anyway. “Hello?”

“Hello?” A deep male voice questioned. “Who is this?”

“Dude, you called me,” Dean responded.

The man cleared his throat. “You’re right. Forgive me. I’m looking for Gabriel.”

“No one here by that name.” Dean tilted his head. “Think you got the wrong number.”

“Perfect,” the man sighed. “Thank you for your time.” He hung up.

Dean pulled the phone away and glanced down at it with a laugh. He hadn’t even thought people talked like that anymore, so polite and formal. It was weird.

Dean wondered if the man talked like that all the time.

————————————————————————————————

He didn’t have to wait long to discover that he did, in fact, talk like that all the time. On the phone at least, because he called again a few days later.

“Yeah?” Dean asked into the receiver.

“Yes. Hello. I am looking for my brother Gabriel.” The voice responded.

“You again?” Dean laughed. He hadn’t noticed the slightly familiar number because he had been expecting a call from one of Sam’s friend who needed help fixing the air conditioning on her car. “Figured you’d have tracked him down by now.”

“I beg your pardon?” the mystery man responded. Dean would have sold his soul to see if the expression on the man’s face matched the one Dean had pictured.

“Relax, man. You called my number a few days ago looking for this Gabriel guy,” Dean explained.

“Oh.”

“I take it you guys aren’t close?” Dean asked. And then instantly regretted it. That wasn’t the sort of thing you asked a random stranger—he had enough issues with his own family to know that.

“No,” the man sad and he actually sounded sad. “Unfortunately we are not.”

“That sucks man,” Dean said. “You wanna talk about it?” Apparently Dean’s sense of reason had flown out the window.

The man remained silent for the longest minute of Dean’s life. “That is very kind of you, but I don’t entirely feel comfortable talking about my life with some stranger. Besides the point—“

“Dean.” And there went his sanity. What he expected to come out of this was anyone’s guess.

“Excuse me?” the mystery man asked.

“My name’s Dean. Dean Winchester to be exact,” Dean told him. “I’m not exactly a stranger anymore.”

“It’s nice to meet you Dean, but I still—“

“And yours? It’s only fair.”  _I’ll show you mine if you show me yours_  passed through his mind for one horrifying second.

The man sighed, or maybe huffed out a breath. Dean wasn’t sure. “Castiel.”

“That’s a weird name.” He could have slapped himself. Names and family were two things you didn’t criticize.

“Try living with it.”

Dean laughed. “I can’t imagine.”

“My parents are very religious. My siblings and I all have angelic names,” the man—Castiel admitted.

“Hey, I was named after my grandmother apparently,” Dean told him.

“Your grandmother’s name was Dean?” Castiel asked and Dean could just picture him raising an eyebrow. He sounded like the type.

“Deanna, asshole.”

“Ah, my mistake,” Castiel chucked quietly.

“Yeah, laugh it up,” Dean grumbled.

“My name was originally supposed to be Cassiel, but there was a misunderstanding.”

“Like Oprah,” Dean said.

There was a pause. “What?’

Dean shook his head and coughed. “Nothing. So you and your brother don’t get along huh?”

Castiel sighed. “Yes and No.”

Dean phoned beeped and he checked it out. It was that girl calling about her car. “I’m really sorry to do this, but I gotta go.”

“Oh. I understand,” Castiel said quietly.

“Yeah. Some girl my brother knows needs help with her car and he said I could help her.” Dean paused. “But I can call you later if you still wanna talk.”

“I appreciate it, but it won’t be necessary,” Castiel told him.

Dean rubbed at his hair. “Well, if you ever wanna talk, I’m here. I mean, I can be.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

“Okay then. Bye,” Dean said awkwardly.

“Goodbye Dean,” Castiel said.

Dean hung up and wondered why he felt so off about the idea that Castiel might not ever call him again. And why the thought of calling Castiel both scared and intrigued him.

He called the girl back since he had taken too long ending his call with Castiel. “Hey, it’s Dean Winchester. Sam’s brother. Sorry I missed your call, was just finishing up with something. What can I help you with?”

————————————————————————————————

_“Ah. Hello Dean. I—I’m incredibly sorry. My phone called you by mistake. I mean, your number was still listed at the top of my recent calls and I must have pushed a button wrong or something. I hope it’s all right that I left a message. I just, well I wasn’t sure if I should because I didn’t actually mean to call you. But I didn’t want you to worry. I don’t know if you actually would worry but anyw—“_

_“Yes. Sorry. It’s Castiel again. Did I say that on the last message? It cut me off since it took me a few seconds to realize there was a message being recorded. Oh, but I’m fine. I just accidentally called your phone. Well, this time it was intentional, because I wanted to finish my message. Which I’ve done I suppose. Okay. Goodbye, Dean.”_

————————————————————————————————

It had taken Dean two days after listening to those messages to figure out that he wanted to talk to Castiel again, that he wanted his phone to ring. It had taken another four to come to terms with what exactly that meant for Dean, for Castiel, just in general. Could you actually fall for someone you’ve never met and barely know?

All the fairy tales and love stories made is seem possible, but Dean wasn’t a fool. He knew that love like that didn’t exist. You couldn’t love someone without knowing them. But he  _wants_  to know about Castiel.

And that thought scared him. So it had taken another few days, and a few more beers to finally do something about it.

Of course as the phone was ringing he had no idea what he was going to say. And of course it went to voicemail. While he was debating over whether or not to leave a message, the tone beeped and he coughed.

“Hey. It’s me. Dean. Dean Winchester.”  _Smooth_ , he mentally scolded himself. “I just, thought I’d call. I got your messages and I was—I mean… I was just curious if you…What’s your favorite ice cream?”  _What?_

Dean sighed. “I guess that’s all I had for you. It’s not necessary to call back. I was just…I’m gonna hang up. Bye.”

He nearly threw his phone. He did drop his head down on the table. That was probably the worst message in the history of the world.

And Castiel would remember it forever.

————————————————————————————————

It hadn’t turned out as awkward as he had thought, though, when Castiel had texted him a few hours later. He apologized for both the text and not getting the phone, but he was traveling back home for a family thing. He had been going through security and hadn’t seen the call. And then felt rude having a phone call while waiting to board the plane. Another text had quickly followed with the words  _Butter Pecan_.

It had started a trend between them. Over the next few days they were constantly texting. Dean had learned that Castiel was a professor of Theology at the university, had two brothers and a sister—all younger, and originally grew up in Illinois. Dean had told him that he had lived in Kansas all his life, has a younger brother Sammy, and how their Uncle Bobby moved down there for them when their dad died a few years ago. He had even told Castiel about how he worked as a mechanic for his Uncle Bobby, and admitted that he had always wanted to be a fireman, which was something he hadn’t even told Sammy.

It was surprising, slightly terrifying if Dean was being honest, how quickly this  _thing_  evolved between them. After three weeks, they were talking every day, though they hadn’t met yet. Not really. He wasn’t sure if he was waiting for Castiel to ask him or he was praying he never would.

Everything was weird and fast and happening as it only does in movies.

And then his phone rang.  _Cas_  flashing on the screen.

“Hey,” he answered with a smile.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel greeted. “I was wondering, rather I was hoping…Would you like to have dinner tonight? With me? Or meet for a drink?”

“Oh, um,” Dean took a breath. “Yeah. Sounds great.”

“Oh…okay.” Castiel sighed. “I hadn’t exactly planned out much further than the phone call.”

Dean laughed. “It’s fine, man. You know that bar,  _The Roadhouse?_ ”

“Yes. I’m familiar with it,” Castiel told him.

“They have the  _best_  burgers ever,” Dean said. “If that’s okay with you.”

“That sounds wonderful. Around six okay?” Castiel asked him.

Dean glanced at the clock, saw it was nearing four and couldn’t help but wonder just how long Cas had been working up the courage to call him. “Six. I’ll see you there.”

“Okay. Good.” Castiel cleared his throat. “Um, should we meet outside?”

Dean remembered that he hadn’t actually seen Cas, had no idea what he looked like. “Yeah, sure. I’ll call you when I get there, sound good?”

“Yes.” Castiel paused. “I’ll see you later then?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Goodbye, Dean.”

Dean laughed. “See ya.”

He tried to focus on work for the next half hour before giving it up as a lost cause. He told Bobby he was leaving early and blushed—Dean Winchester never blushed—when Bobby asked if it was ‘cause he had a hot date.

Dean was still trying not to think about it as he got himself ready for this—it wasn’t a date. At least, Dean wasn’t sure it was a date. He wasn’t sure if he wanted it to be a date.

But that didn’t stop him from trying on no less than five different shirts before grabbing an old Led Zep shirt and throwing a flannel over it. He pulled his boots on, didn’t look at himself again, and just started heading to the bar.

Of course he regretted his decision to not make sure he looked presentable when he pulled in and saw Cas leaning against the wall. He doesn’t know how he knew it was Cas, but he just did. He figured it was the trench coat. It seemed like something Cas would favor.

Dean tried not to stumble, tried not to look like he was advancing on his prey, as he approached the man in standing there in the trench coat that was just slightly too big on him. Cas was pulling at the sleeves. Dean wondered if it was a nervous habit.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for Gabriel?” Dean asked him as he approached him.

“No one here by that name.” He smiled and all of Dean’s nerves fell away. Well, not all because it was  _definitely_  a date and the guy was fall-down attractive, but enough that he felt he could hold an actual conversation.

Besides, they’d already proven that they could hold their own in conversations. This was just the next step. 

 


End file.
